


Bowing under tension

by it_burns_us



Category: The Voice RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-09 22:48:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3267233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/it_burns_us/pseuds/it_burns_us
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam and Blake in the club, with pretty girls and voyeurism.  A culmination and resolve of sexual tension.  The bromance thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing of this is remotely true, nor is it intended to be taken that way. I'm quite certain none of this happened and it's all a product of my twisted imagination.

It was that kind of club, expensive and trashy, with secluded booths for privacy, and Adam loved hanging out there. It hadn’t taken any convincing at all to get Blake to come along. Blake loves his bourbon wherever he can get it, after all. And then, there’s Adam. Blake’s not entirely sure what it is about Adam, but he has accepted the skinny kid into his life.

They have a booth, and it’s a little cheesy, red pleather and black paint. Adam has an edgy, fauxhawked brunette doting on him across the table, while Blake has picked up the only sweet little blonde thing in the bar. Adam has already poked fun at him for that.

Alcohol goes down nicely there, in the din and darkness. They spend a couple hours drinking, and ease and comfort take over and their guard is dropped. Blake’s just flirting, teasing, playing. He has a woman at home and so he won’t be taking anyone “home.” Adam is free and loving it, confidence and arrogance dripping off him, when he goes and picks up a drink he casually surveys every woman in the bar, giving bedroom eyes to the entire room all at once. He flops back in his seat, trademarked rockstar confidence oozing off of him, and it makes Blake smile wryly and shake his head. Adam winks and raises his glass in a salute, while the brunette next to him slides slowly, but purposefully under the table.

Blake’s eyebrows about hit his hairline, wondering what Adam’s reaction will be. Even the skinny, sex demi-god can’t be real about getting a blowjob under the table? But Adam’s face is a perfect poker face, and he moves his jacket subtly to obscure the view. No one even seems curious, in this strangely snobby place, and Adam seems satisfied with their disinterest. The tiny young thing next to Blake giggles nervously and he pulls her up into his lap and plants his lips just below her ear, whispering,

“I ain’t lookin’ for that, sweetheart.”

She turns and looks at him, face an invitation nonetheless and he has to bite his lip and look away. Damn. His faithfulness is often tested by temptation. He brushes his fingers through her hair and explains he’s just looking for companionship, nothing more, right now.

Adam watches the interplay across the table while the wonderful woman he’s been blessed with starts to work him under the table. He notices Blake’s big hands stroking the blonde girl’s hair. Adam can see deep, dark desire in Blake’s eyes, and he finds himself riveted to watching. 

Watching Blake. Blake wanting. Frustrated. Barely contained.

Adam’s not going to last a minute here, with the expert lips on his dick and Blake glowering and glaring with need across the table. He’s never thought himself much of a voyeur, but here, the sexual tension across the way is heightening every sensation. And then, Blake locks eyes with him.

Damn it.

Blake looks at Adam at exactly the wrong second and sees him come undone. His head falls back, eyes close, and mouth opens in a moan too quiet to hear in the noisy din. 

“Shit,” Blake says. Suddenly, he’s over this. He’s sweet to the girl he’s with, of course, pays her tab. Leaves a generous tip for the waitstaff. Dismisses the girl gently, with a hug and a not-quite-chaste kiss on her neck. But they’re leaving now. And he says so Adam.

The pretty, punk-looking, gal comes up from beneath the table, looking deeply self-satisfied. Adam’s pulled it together, like he didn’t just blow his load here, in public, less than a minute ago. He takes the woman’s number then kisses her unabashedly. Blake looks away, because something inside him is roaring and he just knows he can’t watch that.

They get up and leave, walking out into the night, getting into the car that they’ve kept waiting.  
Neither of them speaks until they’re into the backseat. Adam’s got a bit of a shit eating grin on his face, but Blake is riled up. He feels pent up, more frustrated than he has in ages. And then Adam sees it.

“Hey, man,” he says, and his voice is gentle, belying the casual words, “everything okay?”

“No, everything is NOT okay, Adam,” Blake bites out, instantly, frustration evident in each word. This is it. The culmination. Blake can feel it. He’s sick of this highly touted “bromance”, sick of not knowing why it’s there. Sick of not getting it. Of not understanding why watching Adam a few minutes ago is the hottest fucking thing he’s seen in years. Something is fucking there, and he needs to find out, NOW, what it is.

Adam can see the gears working in Blake’s head, but he sits back and waits for the oncoming storm. He lays back against the seat, chill outwardly, but with a pit of nervousness he can’t explain knotting his stomach.  
Blake’s hands are shaking as he pulls his fingers through his hair.

“Adam,” he says, “I just… watched you cum.”

As far as conversation openings go, Blake is pretty sure this is one of his worst ever.

Adam laughs, flat-out laughs, and Blake can’t help but join in. 

“I mean, SHIT, man,” he manages, between laughs, “I don’t know why the fuck I did that.”

“I mean, fuckin’ why, Adam?” Blake asks, and the laughter is gone but the smile remains. 

Adam, shrugs, damn him. “I don’t know, man,” he says, and his voice is earnest and honest, “I don’t really know, either. I…”

Adam trails off. He owes the explanation to Blake, but he’s also damn near afraid to give it.

“I’m drunk, so uh, I really hope I don’t remember copping to this,” Adam says by way of defense, before plowing into the truth, “but, I saw you watching me and that’s what put me over the edge.”  
And then it’s there, the truth that cannot be unspoken. Adam is suddenly very quiet, picking at the stitching on the seat beside him, and Blake is silent as well, biting his lip.

“It was really, I mean REALLY, fucking hot, Adam,” Blake says, and now the earnestness is in his voice. “I don’t know if I just had a moment of voyeurism or what… or maybe… fuck it, there’s something to all this bromance shit after all.”

Adam turns and looks at Blake and laughs, and it’s self-deprecating, embarrassed sort of sound. 

“I don’t have a fucking clue what to do about it,” Adam says, “I’m not into guys, I don’t think.”

“Well, I fucking I CAN’T be, Adam,” Blake says, “I just… I’m fuckin' married, and even more than that my career wouldn't stand that.”

“I know. And that’s some bullshit that it matters, but I get that it does, but that’s not really here or there right now,” Adam says, the over-explanations coming out in a rush.

They sit in silence a little longer.

“So we do nothing,” Blake says, and he sounds resigned.

“In a perfect world,” Adam offers, “what would we do?”

“I don’t know. I mean. Shit, we’re grown men. But like, I guess, see if there’s anything there?”

Adam rubs his eyes. They’re pulling into his driveway. Just a fucking perfect time for this conversation to end. He doesn’t want to send Blake away. Blake who looks a bit lost, a bit sad, and a whole goddamn lot frustrated.

“Come in with me,” he invites, when he’s out of the car, peering back in at Blake. 

“Nah, man, I shouldn’t.”

“You can crash on the couch. Something.” Adam is afraid of what he’s going to say next. But he has be honest. The booze, and the fact that it’s Blake, won’t allow him anything less. “I don’t want to leave you right now.”  
Blake only hesitates a moment. “Well, when you put it like that.”

And then he’s taking Adam’s hand and following the man into his house. Into the darkness and into uncharted waters.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam gets his. ^_~

  
Once inside their jackets come off and more booze comes out, though not too much. They sit together on the couch and relax again in easy conversation, the friendship part of their relationship shining through.

And then, as if it were the most natural, easy thing in the world, Adam leans in and kisses Blake.

The feeling is so different, stubble burning lips. Adam’s done this with men before, but never anything more than just fucking around, playing around, showing off. He’s never meant it like he does right now. And Blake has never kissed another man and he’s so tense at first, but then slowly, very slowly relaxes into the kiss. He keeps his eyes shut tight and traces Adam’s bottom lip with his tongue. And Adam makes this sweet, quiet noise and Blake abandons reason and gives himself up to the kiss. It’s still weird,it’s fucking WEIRD, but it’s not bad, not even a little.

When they break apart, Adam is breathless and Blake is just stunned.

“Okay?” Adam pants out, sounding frightened.

“Very okay,” Blake reassures, instantly. “I haven’t got any idea what I’m doing, Adam,” he admits.

“Me either,” Adam says quietly.

He’s gone vulnerable there, right next to him, and Blake realizes that’s Adam’s charm and sex-appeal all at once. He gives himself up, leaves himself wide open, and lays it all out there for everyone to see. And it works. On millions of fans, and on Blake, too. Blake realizes, far too late, it always has.

“Come here,” he says, and Adam obeys instantly, leaning in for another kiss. This time, Blake takes what Adam’s offering. Takes control and uses lips, tongue and teeth to encourage Adam to open himself up like this, because he will never EVER hurt him. He pushes all other thoughts away and focuses only on Adam. The here and the now.

When they finally part again, Adam’s lips are red and swollen and there are red marks on his neck that Blake doesn’t remember leaving.

“Fuck, Shelton,” Adam gasps out, “you sure you’ve never done this before?”

“Shut up, Levine,” Blake growls in return. He can’t be chatting now, the time for talk is over. Blake is man of movement, and now is the time for action. 

“No,” Adam says, pushing back, rebellious, “I won’t shut up. Do you know how you looked earlier? You looked like you’d fuck anything that moved. You looked fucking desperate. And you held it in. Don’t hold it in, don’t hold back. Come on, Shelton,” he challenges, “I’m all yours.”

Blake grabs Adam in response, and mashes their lips together. Of course Andam knows how to push all the right buttons, a voice in his head says wryly.

  
Adam pushes back against Blake, giving as good as he gets. His momentum winds up throwing them both backward so they land on the couch, Adam on top. Adam kisses Blake’s neck hungrily, while Blake’s hands tentatively explore the curves of his shoulders and the small of his back.

Adam is rock fucking hard in his jeans, a damn miracle after having gotten off so relatively recently. He lines his cock up against Blake’s groin and pushes experimentally.

“Fuuuck,” Blake gasps out beneath him, “I can… feel you. Oh, shit.”

Adam doesn't mention it, but loves the way Blake can't quite bring himself to talk dirty. So repeats the move again and again, each time finding something harder to grind against. But Blake is emboldened by his arousal and grabs Adam and flips them both over on the couch, hard. 

“You’re gonna break my fucking furniture,” Adam whines, but he’s grinning.

“I’ll replace it,” Blake promises, and then he thrusts hard as he can against Adam, the friction of their pants crossing into painful.  
Adam whimpers, closes his eyes and looks away and Blake pulls back and ever so gently places his hand on the bulge in Adam’s jeans. He wonders at the feeling of the hardness beneath his palm, and experimentally runs his hand up and down just barely touching. Adam arches against his hand.

“This is fuckin' weird,” Blake admits, “but I don’t give a fuck if I gotta touch your dick to do it, I love making you look like that.”

“Look how?” Adam asks, eyes open, genuinely curious.

“Needy,” Blake says, huskily, stroking up Adam's cock along with the word. 

“Hot,” he adds, eyes dark and downcast, staring into Adam's, on the downstroke.

“Desperate.” And he gives one more experimental touch, before his hands go to Adam’s zipper.

He is crossing into dangerously fucked up territory, Blake knows, but also knows they've been flirting with this particular disaster for years. And with just the right combination of alcohol, frustration and privacy, pretense goes up in flames. He wants to get Adam off, and do a better job of it than that girl did earlier. Blake needs to be the one to make Adam come apart at the seams, to lose himself in wild abandon. So he steels himself for the awkward and uncomfortable and divests Adam of his pants, thanking God that they aren't the painted on kind Adam usually favors.

Adam, for his part, has lost some of his cockiness and gone quiet. His pretty mouth keeps moving, as if to speak, but no words come out. When Blake finally takes him in hand he groans hard and his fingers come up to his face to hide a bit.  
Shelton pushes them away.

"Don't fuckin' hide from me, Adam," he commands, and Adam obediently looks up at him.

"What the fuck are we doing?" Adam asks and his tone is honest and bewildered, but Blake doesn't answer. He's too busy learning the feel of Adam's cock in his hand.

"Blake," Adam moans, and traces his hands up Shelton's arms. He wants to touch, but is afraid to move, less he frighten the other into stopping, because Blake, stroking his cock is the hottest thing he's ever seen. He feels like he has won every competition between them ever, but rather than wanting to crow about it, he wants to covet his prize. Adam memorizes the way he can see the muscles of Blake's arm dance as he works his cock, the way his lashes nearly hide his eyes, the determined set of Blake's mouth.

Blakes concentration is rewarded when he hears Adam's breath coming faster and small, needy gasps escaping his throat. He watches the muscles in Adam's stomach and thighs clench, then feels them under the fingers of his other hand. He can't resist looking at Adam's face at the last moment though, demanding eye contact again, and he feels the slick load coat his fingers and it's fucking finally enough.


	3. Chapter 3

All the tension in Blake's body evaporates and he looks at Adam with fondness and wonder. He is still desperately hard in his jeans, but doesn't care. He wanted to win Adam in this way. For while Adam feels he's won the competition between them, having Blake worship his body and bring him over the brink, Blake knows he has won Adam. And that was the stalemate they couldn't get past that had driven them to a frenzy and furor. Each of them HAD to win, and now in their own way they have.

Adam is completely sated and exhausted, but pushes through the muzzy haze of bliss to attend to Blake. He kisses him worshipfully, putting all his gratitude and affection into the kiss. He doesn't care if it's girly, and holds Blake's face in his hands. Doesn't care if he's messy, his spent cock dripping as he climbs up into Blake's lap. He undoes the buttons of Blake's shirt, one by one, and Blake lets him. Adam can see in his eyes that Blake's thoughts are moving elsewhere, and he refuses to let that happen. He brings Blake back to him by moving his lips and tongue across all the skin he's bared. There's so much of it. Adam is used to waifish women, and Blake is a big man. The difference is startling; heady and intimidating and intoxicating.

Adam pushes Blake back now, gently. He is coming back to himself now, confidence and cockiness returning. He can absolutely do this. He can seduce Blake Shelton.

His dips his tongue right into Blake's belly button which earns him grunted curses of ticklish protest. But that was a momentary distraction and he continues lower, brushing his lips along the waistband of Blake's pants.

There is no shyness in Adam's movements. He is self-assured once again. When his tongue dips below Blake's waistband, and he pops the buttons of Blake's jeans with one hand, his fingers do not tremble. He doesn't take the time to look up at Blake or even to examine the cock he frees so easily, before taking it into his mouth. It's not until he realizes he needs to wet the shaft that he locks eyes with Blake as he runs his tongue from root to tip. Blake groans at the sight, closes his eyes and throws back his head. Adam misses the eye contact, but is gratified by the reaction. He finds a rhythm easily enough, knows that keeping a steady beat with mouth and tongue will make up for any rookie mistakes. For while he's certain he can do this, he never has before.

It doesn't take long and then Blake is yelling in warning and when Adam shows no sign of stopping (in for a penny, in for a pound he thinks) he sits up and drags Adam's head off his dick while he shoots into the air, past the point of no return.

"Jesus. Fuck,' Blake huffs between panting breaths . If Adam is unhappy about the interruption he doesn't show it. He's still kneeling between Blake's legs, looking smug.

"Not bad for a first try, right?" Adam asks, his tone light. There is a real question in his voice, however. Blake can hear it, so he answers that, "Better than not bad, Adam."

The silence is heavy between them, and neither seems to know how to proceed. Eventually Blake seems to soften and beckons Adam to him.

"C'mere,"he says, gruffly making space next to him on the couch. Adam takes off his shirt, and wipes the mess from both of them, before half lying down next to Blake. The whole encounter was too rushed and neither had the patience to fully undress. Adam almost curls into Blake, cat-like, but stops short, merely lying next to him, the long line of their bodies touching all the way down.

"I'm still not sure what that was," Blake says carefully, because, again, action becomes him. Adam shrugs slightly at his side, of the opinion that it hardly matters right now, and that Blake shouldn't speak through the afterglow. His natural talkativeness won't allow the conversation to die, however and he sighs in answer.

"Fuck if I know. I think I feel better though. Like maybe that wasn't exactly the right thing to do between us, but it wasn't wrong either," Adam explains, poorly.

"I get that," Blake says, and his voice is drawling and lazy now.

"I don't know what's next," Adam says, and Blake just shrugs and kinda half laughs. He slings an arm around Adam, because it feels good to do so.

"I guess we just take it as it comes."

"As it were," Adam says, unable to stop the juvenile joke.

"Oh God, Adam," Blake groans.

 

  
 _Epilogue_  
They spend the night in Adam's bed, not exactly cuddling, but not awkardly sleeping apart.

And when Blake leaves in the morning things feel easier than before. For now, the tension between them has been relieved, and if it dials back up, they'll deal with it again. Parting is sweet and not sorrow, and what had always felt raw and unfinished is smoothed over now that it's acknowleged. They spoke all their need in actions rather than words, and felt better for it. Though the future is uncertain, both Blake and Adam are happier in the present.


End file.
